Chapter Text
Peter had been running through the streets of New York. It was pleasant. As pleasant as could be— until a rat ran across his foot as if his foot were its sidewalk and then Peter was falling forward bracing himself before realizing there was some weird looking star shape in the sidewalk. Then, with a blink, he was gone. His small bag of groceries left in the spot he’d vanished. The only reminder he was even there.
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Peter remembered when he first got his teddy bear as clearly as the day it happened.
He, uncle Ben, and his dad had all gone to Build-A-Bear together. His fingers were being diligently wiped by his dad. Grumbles about how impossibly sticky his tiny grubby hands were when the popsicle was eaten three hours ago. Uncle Ben had made a comment about how familiar that sounded and his father could only mumble something about bitchy brothers back. Ben’s loud laugh surrounding him.
The inside of the store was so shiny in his memories. It was bright and golden. The dust in the light made the room feel like it had stars in it. The soft wording on all the walls and the gentle color palette were soothing even to him back then. He remembers his dad picking him up and showing him all the different teddy bears, hedgehogs,
frogs, and bunnies. As they looked at all of them he remembers his little hand reaching out towards a beautiful light brown bear with brown eyes. His head resting peacefully on his dads shoulder.
Picking up the soft bear his father let Peter run his hands over it. He remembered being a bit confused that his dad didn’t pick up the bear only a weirdly shaved blanket.
They walk over to the strange machine, filled with white clouds, and Peter is placed back on his feet.
He remembers uncle Ben showing him different scents. Peter really liked the strawberry one.
He had grabbed a soft flannel heart. His dad and uncle were both fond of flannel. Rubbing it to his head. His cheek and his knees. He rubbed it on his back. He held it close to his heart.
He squeezed his eyes, the heart held closely to his chest and in both his hands, as he made his wish. He hopes the teddy bear will protect him.
He's not entirely sure if he made that wish then or if he remembers he made it then. Memories were funny like that. Maybe he wished it’d be his friend. He didn’t have a whole lot of them back then. That wish still felt too new though. Maybe Peter had just wished to love his bear and be loved in return. He’s not totally sure what his four year old mind would have wanted. Another popsicle maybe.
What he does know is that this bear holds one of the fondest memories he has remaining of his dad and his uncle Ben together. It’s one of the last of them. Peter misses his dad. And he really misses his uncle. He remembers his uncle clearer. He remembers his dads eyes and how they’d crinkle. He remembers his smile and dimples, just like he has. He even remembers the way he’d dangle Peter and toss him expertly into the air before catching him in his arms and holding him close. He smelled like cologne.
One he sprays onto his clothes and bedsheets when he gets the chance to. He can’t help melting into the sheets when he does it. Sometimes he even buys a tobacco scented candle to get the scent of uncle Ben back too.
He misses them both so much.
He’s doing the best he can now. Especially with his aunt May struggling with the two of them. She smells a lot like clean laundry. He loves snuggling up to her.
Some days when it’s hard to sleep, when he has a nightmare, he’ll crawl into her bed and she’ll huff a laugh and pull him nice and close.
All this to mention, he’s been vigilanteeing for almost six months now. Making things harder on him and his aunt. Now that she knows anyway. She’s known the last two almost three months-ish.
He thinks he’s getting the hang of it now. He’s seen some terrifying things, gotten hurt badly, and he’s struggled multiple times over, but he has his aunt May.
She always holds him tight and helps him as best she can. They used to argue a lot in the beginning. When she first noticed something amiss about two months into their grief. She noticed the bruises and the random cuts along his small hands that’d be gone the next day.
She caught him on month three and a half. He had left the suit he’d made, a hoodie with some embroidery, and goggles from an old Halloween costume, out on his bed. He’d thought she hadn’t seen it.
Almost four months of being a vigilante in secret. Peter was never the best at keeping secrets so four months was impressive by his low standards. His last secret had lasted a week.
During breakfast the next day she had asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. How he was too damn young to be anywhere but home at night.
The two argued. And fought, but Peter never once left the apartment in anger. He refused to leave without telling aunt May he loved her or where he was going if they got so intense he did have to go. He’d always tell her where and when he’d be back.
She’d gotten him a phone by then too and Peter made sure she had his location. He’d send her a message if he chose to change locations or if he was heading home sooner.
He’d never make the mistake of someone not knowing where he was going again.
Especially without a hug and I love you first.
Especially if they were fighting.
After three days of the fighting the two had amended their ways. Aunt May had looked at some YouTube videos about proper communication with him. Finally they’d gotten out their feelings properly and finally Peter felt like he could breathe. He hated fighting with his aunt May. He thinks he cried himself to sleep each of those three nights. Wishing he could go to her bedroom to be snuggled. Wishing he could just cry in her arms and get it all out.
They’d been so hard . Those three days. Cause he could hear his aunt crying softly too. Which only spurred him to cry even more. He hated it.
He never wanted to fight with her again.
She had cried just as much as he did when they finally reconciled because she had never wanted to fight with him either. They just didn’t have the right words or sense on how to discuss something so difficult together.
She set him a curfew. Got him a burner, since he left his actual phone home when he went out. And demanded a text every hour. She was always there to patch him up too. He didn’t know how he lasted those almost four months without her.
She even looked into finding him a place to get him a suit that would stop the bullets from hitting him. Peter continues to stay amazed by his aunt.
Aunt May had insisted they talked to her friend about someone who could help with that. Before aunt May found anyone though she asked what Peter was called. Peter hesitantly revealed he wasn’t sure what to call himself yet. He did want to include spider though.
That spurred a whole different conversation about why and what he could do. Since his aunt May had only briefly heard about him and his vigilanteeing. The news wasn’t exactly covering him, only the criminals or victims he’d helped were telling people. And as a nurse his aunt May had heard some about him and how he’d helped.
He showed her his strength, his aunt May was amazed he could lift a couch. He didn’t have the heart to say he could lift a car. She told him he’d have to start sweeping and mopping underneath it.
He’d explained his stickiness and his aunt laughed.
“That’s why I couldn’t get you off me! I had to call in sick to work that day.” Peter flushed a bright red at that. He mumbled some apologies and his aunt just smiled at him.
“Well. How about Spiderboy?”
After looking at Peter’s face she burst into a full belly laugh. Peter couldn't even find it in himself to feel peeved. He loved hearing his aunt May laugh.
“Okay okay!" She ruffled Peters hair with a smile. "How about....Spider-Man?”
Peter hummed.
“Yeah. Yeah! I like it.” He beamed at his aunt.
“Now then hun, let’s start suit design.”
They’d spent the whole evening designing and choosing colors. It was so fun .
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Mr. Murdock found them a very trusted man to build Peter his suit. When Peter hesitantly asked his aunt how she could be sure about these guys. His aunt had laughed and told him that her friend Mr. Murdock was a lawyer who had worked with vigilantes.
Essentially, the man had connections. So cool!
Peter beamed at the man. Although he couldn’t see it and told him thank you so much the tips of his ears started to flush. Peter even rambled about how cool it was that he knew vigilantes.
He tried to hear any stories about meeting them but Mr. Murdock gave him a smile and told him it was client confidential. Peter stuck his tongue out at him.
“I just stuck my tongue out at you.” Peter told him decisively.
“…Right.” Mr. Murdocks replied.
Later, Peter made Mr. Murdock some cookies as a thank you and took them to his office with aunt May when his suit, his beautiful and awesome, new suit was finished.
He even gave Mr. Murdock a tight hug before leaving. Peter couldn’t help it.
And if he was crying just a little bit, Mr. Murdock didn’t make any comments about it. Nor did his aunt or the other people in the office.
When they leave Peter can’t help but overhear someone ask who he was. Peter smiles.
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May was strict about him only going out three days of the week at random. He would leave at random times. She insisted he never set a pattern. Every time she said something like that he always made sure to listen closely.
He loves his aunt May so much.
He would go out some days in the morning and some in the evening and some at night. Never making a pattern of that either. Some weeks he was only out in the morning.
He even ran into Daredevil once! The guy was scary but absolutely awesome. Peter has excitedly ranted to him about how cool he was.
And then Daredevil told him to stick beside him when he chose to work at night. Something about him needing to get the hang of things.
Mr. Daredevil even told him he’d teach him things about fighting and form. Why would fighting need a form?
One quick YouTube search had Peter going, “oh.”
He’d told his aunt May that he’d ran into Daredevil and how he was going to stick near him when he was out at night.
His aunt May was worried at first, but after Peter excitedly told her after the third time he’d met Daredevil and what he learned she seemed a tad resigned.
She sent him with a note once that Peter handed to Daredevil. He’d taken the paper and placed it into his pocket before teaching Peter how to throw more punches.
His aunt May had done so much for him. She’d helped him patch up wounds, she’d listen when Peter needed to tell someone about the scary things he’d seen, she helped him get a suit that actually protected him, she helped him with designs and his name, and even ignoring all of that- Peter is just grateful she stayed . That she chose to help Peter instead of tear him down. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t approve of- of Spider-Man.
He’s more grateful that she holds him. That she continues to cook with him and laugh with him. She continues to be there with Peter. And he loves her so much and she loves him . Even after everything, she still loves him.
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So as he finds himself laying on his back, backpack pressed painfully against him, he finds himself thinking about how much his aunt May has helped. How much he wanted to be held because it hurt so badly.
What happened?
He’s freaking out so badly right now, he thinks briefly as his breathing turns labored. He wants his aunt May. He wants to be held. And dammit he wants it so badly his chest hurts.
What the hell happened?
He sends a small apology to his aunt May as he curses. He’s going to have to put a quarter in the swear jar.
When he finally manages to brace through the pain and open his eyes, he finds multiple eyes looking back at him. When multiple worried looking teens and kids alike look down at Peter, he can’t help but burst into tears. No, he wails.
It hurts . And his spidey sense is thrumming painfully against the back of his skull so badly he can’t focus.
His bear he realizes, his bear, where is his bear.
“Bear. My bear.” He cries. Where is his bear?
“Woah!! Woah kid! Hey hey breath!” A panicked boy cries out. Peter only cries louder. It’s so loud. Everything is so loud.
“Quit shouting Jake. He’s freaking out, he needs quiet.”
“Shit sorry Ty. Sorry. I’ll be quiet.” Jake quietly responds back.
Peter continues his sobbing when he feels his teddy bear gently pushing against his cheek. He opens his eyes again and whimpers at the light, pulling his bear tight against him. The soft strawberry and guava cologne scent gently pull him down from his spiral.